Flotsam & Jetsam
by kdorian
Summary: Gwen knew people fell through the rift. She just never expected to be one of them. - Jack/Ianto, Jack/Gwen, & other. Spoilers for Exit Wounds. Rating will increase later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

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Flotsam & Jetsam

Disclaimer: Not mine

Note: Not betaed - if someone wants to volunteer, I'd be grateful

Chapter 1

Gwen splashed through the puddles on the walkway. Her flashlight illuminated nothing but more concrete walls, darkened by water. She stopped as she came to an intersection, peering cautiously around the corner she was on, then quickly in the other direction. Her hand raised to her earpiece. "I've got nothing here. Give me a direction."

Ianto's voice sounded in her ear. "You need to head North. Rift activity is increasing again, so keep a sharp eye out."

"Will do." She looked around again. "Ianto? I'm a little turned around. Which way...?"

"Left, then go right at the tunnel about 50 meters down."

"Got it." She slipped around the corner, gun in one hand and flashlight in the other, and raced on. The dim and infrequent lights in the tunnels started to flicker as she came to the next turn. She stopped with her back against the damp wall and cautiously looked around the corner. She tapped her earpiece again. "I'm getting electrical effects here - how are you doing? Any activity where you are?"

"Nothing here." Jack responded.

"Rift activity is starting to focus about 30 meters from you, Gwen," Ianto said.

"I'm on my way. Ianto, give me directions. Gwen, don't do anything until I get there."

She waited, peeking around the corner every few seconds as Ianto's instructions to Jack indicated his progress. It was a few moments later when she heard Jack again.

"Ianto, I took a wrong turn. Which way?" Jack's voice was stressed.

"No, you're showing right where you should be. Go straight ahead, the tunnel you're in dead-ends into the tunnel she's in. Turn right and you'll see her."

"Ianto, there IS no straight ahead. There's a wall in front of me." A half-second pause, and Jack spoke again. "It's not concrete. I don't know what it is. It may be an effect of the rift. Find me another way."

Gwen could hear Ianto curse under his breath as he rerouted Jack. She glanced around and felt like doing a little cursing herself. "Guys? There's light coming down the tunnel. Still dim, but it's getting stronger, and it seems to be from something big."

"Rift energy is spiking." Ianto's voice was urgent.

"Gwen!" Jack's voice cut across Ianto's. "Get out of there! Now!"

She turned and ran, holstering her weapon as she fled. 50 meters then left, she knew, only it curved in a way she did not remember, and unless she had missed it in the flickering light there was no tunnel to the left. She thought she had gone back the way she came. "Ianto! This isn't the tunnel I came down - where do I go from here?!"

"You're not..." Static overwhelmed Ianto's voice for a second. "...left, you need to turn... tunnel, the rift..."

"Gwen!" she heard Jack say, then there was nothing but static. She hurried on, hoping she could get far enough away from whatever was happening in the rift to re-establish communications. She tried to keep in one general direction when she had to choose at a junction, but was turned around by the twists and hopelessly lost. The static was a steady hiss in her ear.

She stopped at last to catch her breath and calm down, leaning against the wall. She jerked away almost as soon as she touched it. She knew what concrete felt like, and this was nothing like it. She reached out and touched it cautiously. It was slightly darker than wet concrete, and smooth; it looked almost like plastic, but felt closer to metal, without the coolness she would associate with a metal wall. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. She slowly shone her flashlight up and down the tunnel; it was the same plastic metal as far as she could see. She must have gotten turned around and approached the rift again - this had to be the same stuff Jack had run into.

The hiss in her ear suddenly rose to a painful roar, and she dropped her flashlight as she clawed it away from her ear. She gasped a second, wondering if her ear were bleeding from the noise, then cautiously lifted the earpiece to her other ear. She heard nothing, and put it back on and tapped it. "Jack? Ianto?" Nothing happened, and she wondered if communications were completely down or if her unit had somehow burned out. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force herself to relax. She was spooked, not that she would admit it if anyone asked. Actually, she was pretty sure that if she could just talk to them she probably would not be half as anxious, but right now she was cut off and far too close to whatever was happening to the rift.

She opened her eyes and saw the reflected light of a flashlight heading in her direction from ahead in the tunnel. With luck, it would be Jack, but she knew better than to trust to luck in this job. She picked up her flashlight, which fortunately had landed facing away from whatever was approaching. She retreated down the corridor and around the corner of a crossing tunnel, turning off her light as she waited to see who - or what - approached. She eased her gun out of her holster and took shallow, silent breaths, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

It did not take long. She identified the gait as human, or at least humanoid, and pressed herself against the wall, head turned to see it as it passed. Human, she saw, as it moved into the junction, or close enough to pass as one. But not Jack, or some sort of maintenance worker. It - he - was male, as far as she could see in the reflected light, carrying some sort of flashlight analogue in one hand and something gun-shaped in the other. She held her breath, hoping it would continue straight on, but it started to look down the tunnel she was in.

She brought her flashlight and gun up, flicking the light on as she aimed both at the male. "DON'T MOVE!"

It would have been a little more impressive if he had not mirrored her moves, leaving both of them pointing weapons and lights at each other. Neither moved, each watching the other silently and waiting for the other to make the first move, or for backup to arrive. The male looked human, but the clothes labeled it as either alien, alternate timeline, or from some point in the future. It wore a close-fitting black top and pants, with something that was somewhere between a short sleeveless jacket and a vest over his top. A bracelet analogue twisted around his forearm, and silver glinted on his ear, on that little bit in front of the canal that probably had some fancy Latin name. Another patch of silver lay against the skin at the bottom of his throat, apparently unsupported, and glinted as his throat moved. Tense seconds passed, and then the sound of running feet came down one of the tunnels in the direction she had originally come from. Both of them tensed as the running feet moved closer.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!"

Relief flooded through her as she heard Jack's command. She shifted her balance back and risked a half-second glance in his direction. He was running toward the pair of them, long jacket flapping behind him, his gun out but pointed at the tunnel ceiling. She tensed again as more footfalls echoed from other directions.

"Hold your fire! Nobody move!" He stopped facing the side of the pair of them and panted for a moment. "Everyone just calm down, all right?" He waited a moment; no one moved. "All right," he said in the gentle voice he sometimes used when trying to talk out of doing something violently stupid. "Now, just give me your gun, nice and easy. No one's going to be hurt. Just give it to me and we can get all of this settled."

She did not move her eyes from the male, who did not move. She glanced at Jack, wanting to follow his lead on this - he was the expert.

He was focusing on her, not the male, his eyes concerned. His hand was out, making a gently coaxing gesture. And there was a patch of silver against his skin at the bottom of his throat, a glint of silver halfway up his ear, which had not been there before. His long sleeves hid most of his arms, although she could see the edge of his wrist strap, but the gun in his hand wasn't the Webley he had carried - that he always carried - when they parted company less than twenty minutes ago. He was carrying something that bore more than a passing resemblance to the gun the male in front of her carried. She abruptly was not at all relieved at his presence. She wondered if she was actually seeing Jack, or an alien wearing an illusion, or if he was a hallucination. Her gun hand wavered, moving an inch in Jack's direction before snapping back to cover the strange male. "What is going on here?" she asked in a low tone.

"Give. Me. The gun." He seemed fully focused on her, but his free hand flashed out in a stopping gesture as strange two women, dressed much as the strange man was, ran up. "Hold your fire!"

The women stopped, guns out but down, their eyes moving back and forth as they took in the tableau. Jack slowly brought his hand back down and out, reaching toward her again, as he slipped his own weapon back into his holster with the other hand. "The gun. Give it to me."

Gwen's eyes darted back and forth, her terror rising. There were so many possible explanations for what was going on, and if she chose wrong not only could she die, she could doom the others as well. If these were shape-shifters, nothing would prevent one of them from taking her shape and going back to join Jack, and getting into the base...

"GWEN! DO IT NOW!"

Almost reflexively, her hand moved and her gun slapped into his palm. His other hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, his arms folding around her as he pulled her against his chest. "It's all right. It's all right."

She gasped, then stilled. He felt like Jack, he sounded like Jack, he smelled like Jack. She panted against him as her terror started to ebb. "What's going on?" she demanded again, fear and confusion lacing her voice.

"It will all be all right, Gwen. I'll take care of you. I promise."

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	2. Chapter 2

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Flotsam & Jetsam

Disclaimer: Not mine

Note: Not betaed - if someone wants to volunteer, I'd be grateful

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Chapter 2

The ride back was illuminating. The side of the vehicle - she couldn't call it a car; it had no wheels that she could see and in fact she was not entirely sure how it managed to move - said Torchwood, as did the front, which she could also see. She presumed the back and opposite side said the same. The five of them had been driven in almost dead silence, broken only by Jack's half-vocalized murmurs to her when she started to shiver. They arrived at the Millennium Center, which had a new-to-her facade that looked worn; the sculpture in the front had been replaced by a fountain that so far as she could tell created water out of nothing at the top, then manipulated the sheet of water that flowed down into bizarre shapes. She had only gotten a glimpse of it, but she was almost certain that in at least one part the water was flowing against gravity.

The entrance had been moved. No longer did they enter through the now-vanished travel agency, but through a gleaming office. The lift had been replaced; it was now a white platform, and her first glimpse of the base showed numerous changes before they she and Jack were brought to an abrupt halt when they tried to walk in. Gwen only realized the others had not gotten off the platform when the door slid shut behind them. Before then was some sort of barrier, although she could not quite make out what it was made of. It was easiest to detect by the effect it had of slightly blurring everything behind it, like looking at things through a thin morning mist.

"What the Hell is the meaning of this?" Jack's voice snapped with fury. "Open this immediately!"

"Sorry, Captain, I can't do that, not until the scans are finished." A man stepped into view on a platform half a level above them, his eyes on the screen in front of him as he moved his hands in odd patterns through the air.

"I told you I would give you the details you needed when I got back." Jack's eyes narrowed. "And why, exactly, do you need to scan me?"

The man glanced down at Jack. "The team reported you behaving in an aberrant manner ever since approaching the alien. I need to be sure you are not subject to an outside influence."

"I am NOT an alien!" Gwen protested. "I was born right here in Cardiff!" She wondered how, exactly, the team had reported anything to this man. No one had spoken on the ride back, nor had she noticed anyone doing anything she could interpret as writing or typing out a message. She must have missed something one of the others had done - but she knew Jack had not spoken to anyone else the whole time.

"Of human parents?" the man asked patronizingly.

"YES of human parents, you-!"

"She's in the files, Daved!"

"No. No, actually, she's not. I've got more than enough flats and holos of her at this point to create an exhaustive search profile. Clothing, hair, accent, everything places her here at the end of the first decade of the 21st century, and you know how they were becoming about record keeping. She's not there. I tried Cardiff, then all of Wales, then all of the Kingdom, 19th century through present, and she doesn't exist. No 'Gwen' with her face - no one with exactly her face at all. I'm running the worldwide search now, and I'm not holding my breath. So you stand there and wait for the scans to finish before you go anywhere so I can verify that she is human and that you are not subject to an outside mental influence, and don't tell me you wouldn't do the same damned thing if the positions were reversed!"

"You are looking in the wrong files!" Jack ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Look in Personnel. Gwen Cooper, recruited 2006."

Gwen recognized one of the ones who had been in the not-car with them when the taller woman abruptly stepped forward, giving Jack an incredulous look. Apparently the base had another entrance beside the two she knew, assuming the invisible lift was still there.

"Yes, she's one of us," Jack said with a nod to the woman.

Daved looked shocked for a moment, then his hands moved swiftly. A few moments later, a hologram of Gwen sparkled into existence on the floor in front of him. "And we have a match. My apologies, Captain."

A section of whatever was in front of them winked out, and Jack stalked forward sending a glare at Daved.

"So what is she doing here now?" Daved asked.

Gwen saw the last two members of their party step forward, not saying anything. The tall woman stared at Gwen as if she found her fascinating.

"I fell through the rift," she said softly. It was the most likely explanation. She turned to Jack for confirmation.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "You fell through the rift." He looked up at the others. "Conference room, people. Now."

--

She huddled in a chair in the conference room, a blanket that Jack had given her wrapped around her shoulders. Everyone else seemed comfortable with the temperature, and in the back of her mind she wondered if she was at risk of shock. Other than a whispered "Follow my lead" - as if that was anything but standard procedure when dealing with Jack - he had not said anything to her as they had walked to the room. He had focused on his wrist strap as he led her, doing something incomprehensible until there were there. He turned to tell her something else, but the rest of the group walked in. Jack gave her a look that she could not interpret and moved to the head of the table.

The others gathered, sitting around the table. It was flat black, crackled with gray, and just slightly warm to the touch. Everyone took their seats and looked down at small display units in their hands. No one spoke, and Jack sat at the head of the table looking increasingly irritated. The silence was starting to creep her out. No one said anything, or even looked up from the thin display units they held. Faint expressions crossed their faces, and they would nod to themselves or shake their heads, frown and smile, but they completely ignored each other, and her.

Jack drummed his fingers for a moment, and then the flat of his hand smacked against the tabletop hard enough to make it shake; the effect was shocking to her. Everyone started speaking at once - Daved and one of the women started in mid-sentence and continued on for several words before trailing to a stop, and the other man produced an odd squeaking noise then cleared his throat repeatedly. The woman who had stared at her before started a series of hacking coughs that slowly faded as she glared bloody death at Jack.

"Conferences," Jack enunciated clearly, "are to be **audible**. I should not have to remind you of that."

"Monthly conferences you said! This isn't the monthly conference," the shorter woman protested.

"Sorry, Captain," Daved said softly, and threw an apologetic look at Gwen.

"I don't see why it's necessary," the tall woman said hoarsely, still coughing.

"I would think you'd understand the courtesy of speaking out loud in front of someone who cannot hear you otherwise," Jack replied furiously.

"But-" she started to protest.

"John, shut UP." Jack snapped.

"First he wants us to speak and then he tells us to..." the shorter woman started to whisper, only to trail off when Jack's gaze moved to her.

"Gwen Cooper, this is Mohamed Daved," he indicated the man who had denied them entrance, "Elizabeth John," the tall woman who'd stared at her, "Michael Sable," that was the man she'd pulled a gun on, "Kai Bowen," that was the short woman, "and I'm Captain Jack Harkness." He gave her an intense look, then looked around the table at the others. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Gwen Cooper. I expect all of you to make her welcome and do everything in your power to make her comfortable during her transition as she learns to deal with the modem world." Or heads would roll, Gwen knew, if someone failed to follow his orders when he was in a mood like that. She would not have dared it herself - well, not unless there was an important reason.

They all chimed in agreement, and threw her smiles of varied sincerity. Gwen tried to smile back with limited success as she tried to figure out exactly what was going on. Jack did not want this team to know that she knew him, that at least was clear, but the rest confused her. Jack never treated their team - her old team - the way he was treating these people, not unless they had done something exceptionally stupid. No, strike that - he had not treated them that way even after they had opened the rift, and she could not imagine what this group might had done that could have been worse than that. She did not have enough information to understand, she realized. She did not know if the lot of them had done something, or if Jack had changed that much. Maybe society was different from what she was used to. Of course, it must have changed, in the time since...

She did not even know what year it was. All she knew was that except for Jack - immortal Jack - everyone and everything she knew was gone.

Jack was talking to Elizabeth John, who was apparently the current team doctor, about whether Gwen would need both the alien and historic medical tests, or if the standard set would suffice, when Gwen interrupted them.

"Why couldn't he find me?"

"I'm sorry?" Jack looked at her, frowning in annoyance.

"He said," she nodded at Mohamed Daved, "that he couldn't find me in any of the records. Why not? I should have school records, academy records; I was a PC for Christ's sake! Why the Hell couldn't he find any records of me?"

Jack stared at her for a long moment. "You were erased," he said at last.

"I was WHAT?" She could not believe what he had just said.

"You were erased. Records were changed, photos altered, computer files tampered with, whatever was needed. Just enough to ensure that anyone searching for you - other than us - would not be able to match you to the old records." He watched her, his face emotionless.

"But why? That's not procedure, not in our - in my time!" The others, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, were watching the two of them, eyes moving back and forth like the spectators at a tennis match.

"It was done because a little over 10 years ago an evaluation of your disappearance suggested you would be reappearing before long - relatively speaking. The Commander decided that as there was no way we could guarantee we would get to you first, it was necessary to ensure that you wouldn't be matched with a woman who went missing in 2008 and hadn't aged a day since."

"So you just, just wiped me out of existence." She wondered who 'the commander' who ordered _that _was. She thought she was dealing with Jack, but...

"Yes." Jack watched her, his face hard.

"So now what do I do, as someone who doesn't exist?"

"So now we re-create you."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." Jack turned to look at the others at the table. "I've contacted the Ambassador, and he'll be cutting his trip short, so expect him back soon. He'll forward his ETA when he has it." The others looked startled at this bit of incomprehensible-to-her news. "Sable, as soon as John has given her a clean bill of health, I'll want you to start training her. Combat training wasn't standard when she was an agent, so you'll be starting from scratch on hand-to-hand. Make your own evaluation on weapons training and run it by me before you start. John, after you get her physicals done I'm going to need a full psych screening, top to bottom. Daved, I'm sending you the outline for her data insertion. You've never done one on your own before, so be careful and don't hesitate to ask questions. Bowen, I want you to assist Daved, and coordinate with John - we need to get her implants as soon as possible. We'll need you two to work together on her piece, so that will-"

"Wait a fucking minute, what implants?" Gwen stood up and glared down the table at Jack. No way was she having anything stuck inside her body!

Jack looked annoyed again, and touched the disk at his throat and the one at his ear. "These. This," he touched the silver at his throat, "is the mouthpiece, and this," he touched his ear again, "is the receiver. They're implanted, so they have a direct neural link - you'll have to be trained how to use it."

"That's what you've been using to talk to each other? That's your communication device?"

"Actually," he said with a tinge of dark amusement, "it's called a 'phone'. Everyone has one." He stared at her, one finger tapping an irritated rhythm on the tabletop. "Thank you, ladies, gentlemen, that will be all for the moment. You," he pointed at Gwen, "stay. We need to clarify some things. Some of your team's records are still in lock-down, so I'll let you know what you can and can't talk about."

"I'm sure you'll love telling me what I need to shut up about." Gwen did not know why Jack was being such an ass, but she had had just about as much as she could take.

"Oh, you've got that right, sweetheart." He glared at the others, who were lingering by the door. "Get to work!"

"So much for **that **'temporary aberration'," one of them murmured, and the door closed behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

-xXx-

Flotsam & Jetsam

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.

A/N: With thanks to Mimarie who helped me improve the first scene. All remaining errors are mine. OCs are snagable once the story is finished.

-xXx-

Chapter 3

Jack got up, his shoulders tense, and made sure the door was latched once the rest of his team was gone. He touched a button on his wrist strap and she heard the simultaneous click of the doors to the room locking. The indicator lights on the electronic equipment winked out. He hit another button, then turned back to look at her, his face furious. "What the Hell is wrong with you!"

"With ME? I want to know what crawled up your arse and died!" She stood to face him, shrugging off the blanket in irritation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he snapped back sarcastically, "I didn't realize that questioning me in the middle of a meeting was your version of **following my lead**!"

"This is my **life** you're talking about here! You decide one day that the _memory _of me too much of a risk and just wipe me out of existence? And you think I'm going to be fine with that?!"

"**YOU DON'T HAVE A LIFE!**" He ignored her flinch. "Not any more! Your life ended the moment you fell through the rift!" He turned away from her, bracing himself against the wall as he took a few harsh breaths, then faced her again. "You know what usually happens to people the rift takes. The fact that you're here now, unharmed, means you get a second chance. Be grateful for that miracle. But it does NOT mean that you get to criticize what I do to protect all those people who don't know about the rift and what falls through it. It doesn't mean you get to question decisions that took place after you were gone, in situations you know nothing about. And it sure as Hell doesn't mean that you get to second-guess me in front of my people!"

"In front of your people? **I'm** one of your people, Jack!"

His face closed. "No. You used to be, and you might be again. Right now you're a problem, and one I don't have a lot of time for."

She gaped at him. "A **problem**. I'm a bloody problem."

"**Yes**! No. Damn it." He put his hand on his head, not quite running his fingers through his hair. "Things are difficult right now. The rift is going crazy and there are... other things happening. I can't talk about it right now."

"So something's going on, and you won't talk about it. Nice to know some things don't change," she said bitterly.

He threw her an aggravated look. "I have to go out. Go see John in the autopsy bay so she can look you over. I'll get someone to throw together a bed for you in the back somewhere." He headed for the door.

"I'd rather go to a hotel for the night, if it's all the same to you."

"It's not. You're confined to the Hub until we have an identity in place for you."

"Confined to the - for God's sake, Jack!"

"There are people out there who remember you, Gwen! What if one of them runs into you? How are you going explain to your old friend Andy what you're doing running around looking just like you did twenty-odd years ago?"

"Twenty... What year is this?"

He sighed, and seemed to slump. "It's 2034."

"2034? That's all? I though - centuries, Jack! Only twenty six years and you never thought to mention it?" She shook her head. "Rhys. I want to see Rhys."

"Gwen..."

"Fuck you, and fuck the Hub, and fuck Torchwood! I want to see my husband!" She stopped, seeing the terrible look of sympathy and old grief on his face. "Oh no. No, no, no!"

"Gwen, I'm sorry." He put a hand on her shoulder. "There was an accident..."

"**NO!** You can't do this!" She pounded her fists against his chest. "I want my Rhys! He can't be, he can't be! It's not fair!"

Jack pulled her against his chest, holding her, and stroked her hair as she wept. He let her cry for a few minutes before he pulled away, and gave her a cloth to wipe her face. "I have to go. Daved finally tracked down the swarm of chronophages that came through the other day and the others are waiting for me. Don't talk about me, Owen... just don't talk about anyone involved with Torchwood. Or..." He hesitated. "Keep it to modern day. You have a lot of catching up on to do anyway. I'll fill you in on details on what you can and can't talk about when I return. Sable will help you find your way around, things have changed a bit." He kissed her forehead. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Yeah." She watched him unlock the door.

He stopped and turned back to her. "I'm glad you're back. When you disappeared, it was..." He shook his head.

"It must have been hard, trying to keep things together with just you and Ianto," she said.

He gave her an enigmatic look. "I wasn't talking about that." He turned and walked out.

-xXx-

Seconds later Michael Sable tapped on the open door. "Hey. I'm your local guide today, and your first stop is the doctor's office." He paused, looking concerned. "You OK?"

"No," she said raggedly.

"Yeah, stupid question, sorry. You need a moment? I can get you a cuppa."

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

A minute later he set a hot cup of tea next to her. "I can stay and listen, sit quiet, or wander out of the room for a bit, your preference," he said.

She took the cup in her hands, appreciating the warmth, and took a sip. It was hot, strong, and sweet. "Thanks," she said to the man, who hovered uncertainly. She nodded at the chairs and he cautiously took a seat.

"My mum always said it was the best thing when you've had an upset," he said kindly. They sat in silence until she had finished her tea.

"Is there somewhere I can freshen up a bit?" she asked quietly as she pushed the empty cup away. She felt better than she had been before the tea, but her eyes were sore from crying and she wanted a chance clean up.

"Sure, this way." He stood and led her to a bathroom.

She wet a towel and wiped her face, resting the cool cloth against her eyelids for a few moments. She wiped down her arms and washed her hands, and checked herself over. No gun, of course, but she had a container of Weevil spray on her belt that she should turn over to someone. It would be useless against them at this point, she was certain, given that they'd been becoming resistant in the last few months. And that was twenty-five years ago, now. She felt tears threaten again, and pushed them back. She would cry later, when there was not someone standing right outside the door to hear. She looked in the mirror and straightened herself up enough to be willing to face the world again, or at least the rest of Torchwood Three.

-xXx-

"Open."

Gwen opened her mouth, resisting the impulse to roll her eyes as Elizabeth John rubbed a stick against the inside of her cheek. She did not know how Jack had managed to get a doctor with a worse bedside manner than Owen, but he had. She had the feeling that the woman was more comfortable handling corpses than live patients. More used to it, at least. She'd manhandled Gwen like she was dealing with an animated doll before Gwen got fed up with it and shook her off, demanding the doctor talk to her.

"Hand."

Which she was now doing, technically, one grudging word at a time, and not bothering to hide her annoyance. Gwen grimaced as the woman gripped two of her fingers and jabbed a needle against the tip of one of them once they had turned red. John grabbed a pipette and drew up the drop of blood that welled up, then let Gwen's hand go.

"Sit."

Gwen narrowed her eyes. She was already sitting. She had a fair idea that the doctor wanted her to sit at one of the devices that graced the expanded autopsy bay. But if the woman could not be bothered to say so, then Gwen could not be bothered to move. Gwen did not know what they were supposed to do, but they did look vaguely medical.

"Sit!" John pointed at one of the devices.

Gwen sat tight, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm not your dog."

The doctor gave her a frustrated look and huffed.

A few seconds later she heard Michael's voice. "No, John, I won't. Talk to her yourself." His voice came out of one of the top corners of the room, from what Gwen realized was some sort of speaker. "You know the Captain's going to check the recordings. You want him restricting your phone privileges again?"

Gwen stifled a sudden impulse to giggle at the image of the doctor as a spoiled teenager whose father was going to take away her cell phone.

"Sorry if she's being a pain, Cooper," Michael's voice continued. "She's not much of one for talking - out loud, I mean, can't get her to shut up on the phone most of the time. I'd tell her to talk to our therapist about it, but she **is** our therapist, so no help there. I'm getting a room put together for you - won't be much tonight, but I'll get some more tomorrow and you can tell me what needs if I miss something. Oh, John, send her size specs over to me? She's wanting some clothes." The speaker went silent.

John glared up at the speaker, then turned to Gwen with a resigned expression. "Sit there." She pointed at the same machine. "Please," she added after a short hesitation.

"There, now, see, that wasn't so hard." Gwen went to the machine (which brought to mind a dentist chair designed by someone without a firm grasp on reality) and sat. She would get through this.

-xXx-

Michael came to meet her just as John was finishing up; he was carrying a small pile of clothing. "All done, then? Ready for the grand tour, or I could get you something to eat if you're wanting?"

"Food sounds lovely," Gwen said. She felt hollow, and food might help. The second machine John had used on her had left her with dull headache, and the pills the doctor had handed her when the exam was over did not seem to be helping.

He left her sitting on a couch while he fetched something for her to eat, and came back with a tray. "Not sure what you liked, so I brought a bit of what was to be had." He set down a pair of plates with a variety of different foods on them, silverware, and two glasses of water.

They ate together quietly. Gwen was glad Michael was not the type who needed to fill silences. She did not want to be alone right now, but she was to tired and wrung out to talk. He watched to be sure she was actually eating, but did not try to press her to eat more when she finally pushed the plate away.

"Finished, then?" He pushed his own plate back. "If you don't mind my saying, you look done in. Want me to leave the tour for tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Please. It's been a long day." She stood and reached to collect her plate. "Where do I put these?"

"Just leave them, I'll take care of them after. Come on, this way." He picked up the pile of clothes he had left at the end of the couch and led her to her bedroom.

It was a converted storage room, but it had been cleared out and smelled clean. There was a bed, a desk standing in place of a bureau, and Michael had even dug up a couple of placid-looking abstract prints and put them on the walls.

"There's a bathroom just down the hall, turn right and it's two rooms on the right." He set the clothes down on top of the desk. "There's a robe, pants, couple of shirts, what I could find in the spares. I'll help you order some more tomorrow."

She nodded. "I'll need personal items too. Toothbrush, that sort of thing."

"Right! Right, I'll get on that. I'll see you in the morning, then. Sleep well."

"Night."

He stepped out of the room and closed the door. She got undressed and slipped under the covers, turned to the wall, and wept.


End file.
